


Hidden Heart

by dragonwriter24cmf



Category: Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Best Friends, Concerned Kirk and McCoy, Emotions, Families of Choice, Gen, Spoilers, Vulcan Biology
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-07
Updated: 2020-01-07
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:21:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22163986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dragonwriter24cmf/pseuds/dragonwriter24cmf
Summary: After the events on Vulcan, Spock begins avoiding Kirk. Kirk wants to know why, but getting answers from a stubborn Vuclan can be hard. And dealing with the aftermath...that might be harder. Post Amok Time.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 38





	Hidden Heart

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: Characters are the property of Gene Rodenberry.

**Hidden Heart**

Spock was avoiding him. And Kirk knew it.

It had started after that disaster on Vulcan, but Kirk hadn't noticed it at first. He'd been busy with the Altair situation, smoothing ruffled feathers and coming up with a plausible story to explain his detour, and why T'Pau, one of the most influential and powerful Vulcans alive, had called Starfleet to cover his insubordination by requesting clemency. It was tricky coming up with an explanation that didn't break his promise to Spock, but he managed.

Spock himself had been declared off duty, until his body chemistry settled back to normal and his normal control had been restored. McCoy's orders. It was small wonder the two had little time for interaction, with Spock off duty and him spending practically every waking moment on.

By the time they left Altair for their next assignment (charting and exploring yet more uncharted space) Spock was fully recovered and back on duty. But when Kirk approached him, with a suggestion for a chess game after hours, he had been rebuffed with the apologetic excuse that his First Officer and Chief Science Officer was behind on his duties, having been unable to perform to his usual standard while ill, and was intent on catching up and taking care of the rotations and responsibilities of his departments for their next mission.

He understood that. He had work to catch up on himself, routine duties that had fallen by the wayside, as they so often did when he was immersed in diplomatic responsibilities. So he'd accepted the apology, and made a note to catch up his own work, so that he'd be free when Spock was.

Four days later though, every possible document, duty, crew roster notation and inventory requisition, every project the science labs could possibly have on a charting mission, had been taken care of. And he knew it. And Spock was still avoiding him, with an intense focus he usually reserved for dodging McCoy's demands when it came time for crew physicals.

No matter when he got off duty, Spock invariably had something he was working on, a task that needed to be performed, an experiment to oversee...something. When he suggested just taking a break for a meal, Spock had invariably just eaten, or was not hungry, or had something he could not put off.

It was as bad on the Bridge. Spock sent him reports almost before he could ask for them, as if he was making a concerted effort to anticipate every request Kirk might make of him and fulfill it, to avoid even the most mundane of conversation. And where before Spock had alternated between working at his station and talking to him, sometimes even getting up to walk over and speak to him, now the Vulcan stayed glued to his science console as if he thought a disruptor would blast him if he dared look up.

By the third day of it, even the rest of the bridge crew had noticed the oddity, the way Spock seemed to be distancing himself from his captain.

By the fifth day, Kirk resorted to making a completely random request regarding an old nova cloud they had just passed, in an effort to do something to break the wall that had sprung up between him and the Vulcan. Spock hesitated for all of exactly two minutes over the requests, then uttered a very calm. “Correlating now sir.” Five minutes later, Kirk had the data relative to his request on his PADD. Twenty minutes later, he had a perfunctory report answering his question, and Spock had not said another word to him.

Two days later, the obvious rift was making everyone visibly nervous, and he was no closer to breaking through Spock's stubborn silence and avoidance than before. He finished his shift, then excused himself and wandered down to Sickbay.

McCoy was there, working on one of his pads. He looked up when the door hissed open. “Jim. What can I do for you?”

“I need advice.” Kirk sighed, then leaned against the nearest table. “It's Spock. Are you sure he's recovered?”

McCoy frowned. “I made sure he was. You don't think I'd let him walk out of here if I thought it wasn't safe, do you?”

“No. It's just....when he was recovering, did you notice anything different about him?” Kirk's hands tightened on the edge of the bed.

“He was pretty quiet, wasn't responding to my teasing as much. But I chalked it up to a stressful situation. Took him a day or two to really get that Vulcan mask of his back in place, but he seemed perfectly in control to me.” McCoy set the pad down. “Jim, what's botherin' you?”

“Spock. He's avoiding me like I've got Rigellian plague. Or worse. Like I've become some kind of...toxic substance. If he were human, I'd say he was acting like he's afraid to get within four feet of me.” Kirk rubbed his forehead.

McCoy's brow furrowed in thought. “When did that start?”

“I noticed it after we left Altair.” Kirk sighed. “I'm pretty sure it has to do with the events on Vulcan. But...avoidance? He should know I'm not angry about the whole thing. I know it was beyond his control, and he tried damned hard to control. I thought I'd made it clear to him that I didn't fault him. And that he couldn't fault himself.”

“Maybe you did, maybe you didn't. Who knows what goes on in that thick Vulcan skull of his.” McCoy sighed. “Have you tried just asking him directly what the problem is?”

Kirk grimaced. “I haven't had a chance. He's dodged every attempt I've made to get him alone to talk. The only things I haven't tried are making it an order, which I can't find grounds for, or invading his quarters. I didn't want to invade his privacy.”

“If you want answers, you may have to corner him like you did last time.” McCoy's response was blunt and no-nonsense.

Kirk winced. “But what justification do I use?”

McCoy cocked his head. “Anyone else noticed he's been actin' odd?”

Kirk nodded. “The bridge crew. I've let them think he's still recovering from his illness, but it can't last much longer.”

McCoy nodded. “And there you have it. If his behavior is disrupting the crew and causing a change in performance, then you've got a responsibility as the captain to try and rectify it.” He paused, then picked up a hypo and a medical scanner. “If you'd like, I can tag along, say I've heard reports and want to scan him to make sure he checks out okay.”

Kirk considered a moment, then agreed. “If I were truly concerned about crew performance and the effects of his actions, I'd have a responsibility to ask you to ascertain that there's no medical cause. Especially with a crew member who's been recently ill.”

“All right then.” McCoy gestured to the door. “Lead the way then.”

Kirk used the computer to locate Spock in his quarters. He led the way to Spock's cabin, but it was McCoy who pressed the button to the door com. “Spock. It's McCoy.”

“Yes Doctor?”

McCoy swallowed once. “I don't mean to pry, but I've been getting some odd reports about your habits of late, and thought I ought to check you out, make sure you're doin' okay.”

“I assure you Doctor, my condition is quite satisfactory.”

McCoy's mouth twisted. “And I assure you, Spock, that it's my duty to check if I get a report of odd behavior. Particularly in light of recent events.” he paused, then spoke more quietly. “Spock, we diverted to Vulcan, and got one of the most respected Vulcan elders alive coverin' our butts. I know you don't like it, but you're gonna have to live with the fact that Starfleet is gonna want to know why if you so much as breathe wrong for a while.”

There was a moment of hesitation, then the door hissed open. Kirk stepped through ahead of McCoy. Spock, standing at the entrance to his sleeping alcove, stiffened noticeably. “Captain.” His eyes went to McCoy, and there was a sense of betrayal, even possible anger in them.

McCoy caught it, and shrugged. “I didn't lie Spock. I did receive a report from the captain about your erratic behavior over the past few days. And I do need to examine you, because it's affecting the captain and crew, and I need to verify no medical cause.”

Spock nodded, then turned his face away. “As you wish. Captain, I'm certain McCoy is quite capable of delivering the appropriate report to you. You do not need to supervise.”

Kirk took one step forward, then stopped. “You know that's not why I'm here.” Spock didn't answer. He stepped forward again, and saw Spock tense even more. “Spock...you've been avoiding me like you expect me to...to attack you or something. Why? I thought...I thought you understood...”

Spock's shoulders went rigid, his hands clasped behind him. “Captain...I have understood you quite well. It is you who do not understand.”

“Then explain it to me.”

McCoy's tricorder whirred softly, then the physician looked up. He met Kirk's eyes and shook his head. “No chemical imbalances. He's in perfect health.”

Kirk nodded, both relieved and oddly hurt. He turned back to Spock, who still stood facing away from him. “Well?”

Spock shifted, a slight movement that might have been a shudder in a human. “Captain...please...do not ask me to explain. Do not ask me. Grant me this. My own privacy, and my own choice.”

“I would. If I understood it. All I know is that you've been pulling away from me, acting like I'm the Vulcan equivalent of a leper. If you want to ignore me, to turn our relationship into a purely professional one, then fine. But you're going to have to give me more than silence.”

Spock remained quiet.

Kirk sighed in frustration. Then he moved to plant his hands on Spock's desk, where he was in the Vulcan's line of sight, though not directly. “I get the feeling this is about what happened on Vulcan.” The slight twitch of the First Officer's shoulders, the clenching of his hands, indicated his point had struck home. Kirk straightened. “Spock, if I did something wrong, then tell me. If I embarrassed you, shamed you...hurt you in some way, then tell me.” he paused, but Spock said nothing. He considered. “Was it wrong of me to accept the Challenge? Did that...indicate something I don't know about? Was it a betrayal, even if I didn't mean it that way?”

Spock did shudder this time, the merest ripple of his shoulders. “No. it was not...not a betrayal. All are equal when the Challenge is called. Anyone can be chosen. It is not...common, for a male's friends to be chosen, nor for them to fight, but it is not unheard of. You are not the first to conclude that it is better to give the Challenged an advantage in facing one who does not wish him harm.” Kirk saw him swallow, and the green-tinged face was paler than normal. “Captain...please...”

“Did I do something else wrong? Are you angry that McCoy and I cheated? That we technically violated the traditions of your people?” Kirk could feel frustration coiling in his stomach.

“No!” Spock's voice hardened, the muscle in his jaw clenching before he visibly took control of himself once more. “No. I am...most relieved that McCoy interceded as he did.” he swallowed again. “No...no Vulcan who faced the Challenge in such a manner...would begrudge such a solution, improper though it is. The taking of life, even in such circumstances, is disquieting to us.”

“Then what? Is it guilt? I thought I'd made it clear you didn't need to feel guilty, that I understood the whole thing was beyond your control.”

Spock's jaw clenched, and the struggle for control was audible in his voice. “You did indeed make yourself quite clear on the matter, Captain. And I both understood and accepted your words.” He paused a brief moment. “I ask you to let that stand, and to trust that I have my reasons for the choice I must make.”

Kirk sighed. “I wish I could. But half the bridge crew is getting nervous because of your recent behavior. And...” He sighed again. “Spock, I told you before, I don't want to lose you. I thought I'd made it clear how much not losing you meant to me. And yet....” He shook his head. “Two weeks ago, you asked me to stand with you, at what could have been the most important time in your life. You trusted me. You told T'Pau I was your friend. And now you're acting like you'd rather shove me into a Jeffries tube and forget I exist.”

Spock stiffened at the words, mouth tightening. “If I were forced to choose between the events of two weeks ago, and the scenario you describe, the latter would most certainly be my preference.”

Kirk felt himself flinch. It felt like the air had been suddenly knocked from his lungs. “Spock...”

McCoy took two steps forward and grabbed the Vulcan's shoulder, wrenching him around to face him. The physician's face was a mask of anger, his eyes blazing. “You cold blooded pointy-eared... I know I've made jokes about you bein' heartless, but I never actually thought there was any truth to 'em, until just now. How the hell can you say that...” McCoy's hand stabbed outward to point at Kirk. “...to him? Huh?!”

Spock's face was impassive, a mask of stone, and he remained silent.

McCoy's jaw clenched. “You...all your talk about friends...Jim nearly died for you, and this is how you repay him? What damn-fool logic could possibly justify that?”

Spock's shoulders tightened, and his jaw clenched as well. His voice, when he spoke, was soft, low, with that nearly toneless quality that meant he was fighting for control, and close to losing the battle. “I assure doctor...the logic is there, and it is...quite irrefutable.”

“Then explain it to me!” McCoy actually stepped closer, only inches from the Vulcan officer. “Explain it to us! If your logic is so great and inescapable, then tell us!” Spock remained silent. McCoy's fist clenched. “So help me Spock, you explain yourself right now, or I'll put you on medical report under suspicion of being psychologically unbalanced until you do!”

Spock's expression tightened still further. “You do not have sufficient grounds.”

“Like hell I don't. Your behavior over the past month gives me plenty of sufficient grounds. All I have to do is make a notation in the log that the treatment we took you to Vulcan for seems to have been only partially effective, and the records from the physical I took before we arrived will give me all the reason I need.” Spock's eyes flashed, and McCoy's jaw set and he stepped back. “If it's such a damn secret that you don't want me to hear it, then fine. I'll leave. But whatever else, you owe Jim an explanation for that comment of yours. Nobody deserves to have to hear something that hurtful and then walk away without an explanation.”

Spock broke from McCoy and turned, into his sleeping alcove, moving until he stopped in front of the low burning incense pot on the far wall. Kirk found himself moving forward, to stand by McCoy's side. He recognized the posture, the expression on Spock's face before he'd turned away. It was the same way Spock had looked when he'd forced the secrets of the Pon Farr from him. He waited a moment, then spoke softly into the silence. “Spock?”

Spock actually flinched at the sound of his voice, a movement so imperceptible he wouldn't have recognized it if he hadn't been watching closely. The hands clasped behind the thin back clenched around each other, then loosened. “Perhaps...you are right Doctor.” He paused. “Captain...does your promise still stand?”

“You mean the one I made before, the last time I confronted you?” Spock nodded. “Of course it does.”

Spock's shoulders relaxed a small fraction. “And you, Doctor?”

“I won't breathe a word.” The anger had left McCoy's face, leaving it settled into solemnity. He watched the Vulcan a long moment, then murmured “Why, Spock?”

“Because, as you so bluntly stated, the Captain nearly died. Because you were forced to intervene to prevent worse. And because I know...now that my mind is clear, what the consequences shall be, of all our decisions.” Spock's voice was strained, almost painful to hear.

Kirk felt something in his gut clench. “Consequences? What do you mean?”

Spock's hands clenched again. “The fever...is not a one-time occurrence. That was...my first. But it shall not be my last.” Both men saw him inhale deeply, striving for the control that his cracking voice revealed was fast deserting him.

McCoy's voice was almost gentle when he spoke. “Is it possible for you to explain further?”

Spock hesitated, then his head jerked in a short nod. “The fever comes...on average, once every seven years, to the males of the Vulcan race.” He took another deep breath, and his eyes closed, the strain of the discussion showing in his face. “Normally, it is only the first that is to be feared. Only the first, before the marriage bond is set, and the partners are linked together. After that...there is no ritual, no danger. Both will know, when it is time. Arrangements can be made. It is only a matter of...meeting...until the Time passes.” He shuddered, another of those barely perceptible shakes of the lean frame. “That is how it is meant to be, that is how it has been, for time out of mind.”

McCoy nodded, and Kirk voiced the next thought. “But the girl...she Challenged.”

“And you said you released her to that other fellow.” McCoy's voice was thoughtful.

“To Stonn. So I did.” Spock's jaw clenched. “As of that moment, I am no longer bound. In turn, I no longer have a partner to turn to, when the next...Time...comes upon me.”

“But that's years from now. You said so yourself. A lot can happen in that time frame.” McCoy cracked a small grin, trying to lighten the mood. “You may not be the warmest, friendliest being in the galaxy, Spock, but that doesn't mean you won't find a woman to settle down with. You bein' half human proves it doesn't even have to be a Vulcan woman. There's a whole wide galaxy of women out there, and one of 'em just might be the right one for you.”

Spock didn't relax at all. “Possible Doctor. But likely?” He shifted his weight in a gesture that both humans recognized as a nervous habit. “The odds are not high, for such an event. Certainly not high enough that I should care to wager my life, or yours, on them.”

Kirk frowned. “But...surely Vulcan has...some measure of...protection, or aid, for others in your position. You can't be the first...”

Spock exhaled, a slow controlled breath. “The Challenge...is almost never issued. And, given the state of the Challenged....most do not survive. Those who do....” He stopped. “I...anticipated neither the challenge, nor my own survival of it. Nor, when I released T'Pring, did I anticipate...surviving the consequences of killing a Starfleet Captain.”

McCoy's brow was furrowed in thought. “Spock...even with all that...you can't be tellin' me there aren't any other Vulcan males out there without partners. I mean...even if the whole ceremony and what not goes off without a hitch, there's a million things that could happen. Accidents, illnesses....what happens if a Vulcan loses his partner to one of those?”

“Then, after an appropriate period of time to recover, he seeks a new one.” Spock's voice was flat, almost toneless. “As with the original bonding of children, often the family will assist in the search. Too, females who have no partner may seek out such a male, and offer their own compatibility, should they decide to do so.”

Kirk blinked. “Does your family know?”

“They know, Captain.” Spock's voice was even more emotionless, if possible. “T'Pau...would have informed them. Even with the strictures regarding this...my family will have known within hours. However...I am not in a position to seek much assistance from them.”

McCoy broke in. “Regardless of that...supposing a Vulcan doesn't have a partner when this whole...thing occurs. What happens then?”

“Then he dies.” The strain had re-entered the voice, and Spock's hands clenched. “Quickly, if he can find someone willing to deliver the mercy blow. And it is a mercy, Doctor, hence one of the suspected original reasons for the Challenge. Or he dies slowly, at the mercy of the fever.”

Kirk and McCoy both winced at that thought. But McCoy wasn't done. “But...can't someone, some girl...I don't know, help him out?”

Spock's shoulders stiffened, his face turning away as if to conceal anger, or as if he had been slapped. “Doctor, the bond forged between two partners is telepathic as well as physical. In the grip of the Time, in the grip of the fever...there is no way to stop such a bond from forming. It is...necessity. And to break such a bond...” he stopped. “It goes against Vulcan tradition, and against Vulcan law. There are only a few exceptions. Those who choose the kohlinar, and a few select priests and priestesses of other communities, may choose to have the bond dissolved. It is possible at no other time.”

“Well, can't one of those people help?” McCoy was frowning.

Spock shivered. “To receive aid from them, one must become a follower of their tenants, a practitioner of their disciplines. There is no other way. Even if law and tradition did not demand, there is simply no chance that a male in such a state could accept the touch from such without prior understanding, without a prior link formed.”

McCoy nodded. “But...couldn't you...”

“The disciplines take years, Doctor. And I would have to return to Vulcan. To resign my commission and return home. It is doubtful, did I succeed, that I would ever return. And if I did, I would not be as you know me now.” Spock's head bowed.

Kirk stepped forward. “Spock...why are you telling us all of this? How is it relevant?”

“You asked me...why I would choose to distance myself from you. Why I would rather forget you than risk facing another Time with you beside me. To understand, you must understand what the ramifications of my current status are.” Spock turned to face them. “As matters stand, the next...Time...will be...highly dangerous. It is unlikely that I shall survive it, but whether I do or not...”

“You know we'll stand by you, try to help you in any way we can.”

“And that is precisely why I have chosen as I have chosen.” Spock's jaw clenched, and he swallowed hard. The black eyes burned with all the emotion he was visibly trying to suppress. “Captain...you have died, or nearly done so, for me once already. Would you wish to do so again? Doctor...would you want to be in charge of my mental and physical health in such a situation? Apart from the hopelessness of preventing my death, I might attack you, even kill you. Would you want to run such a risk? Would you risk endangering your nursing staff, those who are female, when the Fever drives me beyond the bounds of my control? Could either of you, even knowing what would happen, what the progression of the fever does to both mind and body...could either of you find the strength, the will, to give me the mercy blow to prevent the final madness?”

Kirk felt faintly sick to his stomach. “Spock...”

“Wait just a minute.” McCoy's tone was hard. He took one step forward. “Those are some awful hard questions Spock, but I notice you're askin' if we could handle the situation. You're givin' us reasons to back out, not tellin' us why you're so damned interested in seeing a perfectly functional friendship go flyin' out the airlock.” the doctor faced the Vulcan squarely, his eyes flashing. “I'll admit, it'd be a hard situation. Maybe one of the hardest I'd ever have to face. But I'd like to believe that, if needed, Jim and I would make the right choice, whatever it is, when the time comes. And I sure as hell don't believe in alienating people on the off chance of a disaster that won't even happen for years to come. Hell, the way this ship runs, the amount of trouble we get into, there's a distinct possibility that we'll all be dead before any of us have to worry about you goin' off your head. And judging from the records of the ship, how many times we've all had to save each other's necks, then that probability is a damn sight higher if you go off on your own and hide behind that Vulcan wall of yours.”

Spock visibly flinched. Kirk felt himself steady. He'd been overwhelmed by Spock's words, and he hadn't seen the obvious. He was glad McCoy had. He stepped forward himself. “Spock....”

Dark eyes turned to him, and he braced himself against the turmoil in their depths. “McCoy's right. You're giving us reasons to back away. Not you.”

Spock's throat worked as he swallowed, black eyes burning with emotion, with a pain Kirk was glad wasn't reflected in his carefully expressionless face. He didn't think any of them could have endured it, had the pain in those eyes been written nakedly upon that face. Then Spock spoke, his voice so low and harsh that it hurt to hear, rasping as if, instead of being exposed in his expression, the anguish of his eyes had torn him apart inside instead.

“Before we beamed down, I informed you that the male was traditionally accompanied by his closest friends. That was not a lie, however, neither was it strictly accurate.”

Kirk felt himself go still. Beside him, McCoy froze. Kirk swallowed. “Explain that, please.”

Spock's lips thinned, then he spoke again. “By tradition, the Time is a time only for family to witness. And even that as few as possible. Family, and those whose responsibility it is to oversee such matters. Thus, it is most common for the male to be attended by his male relatives, those he is closest to, has the greatest connection to. It is only rarely that a non family member may be called, and only then for one specific relationship.”

McCoy's eyebrow quirked in an eerie imitation of Spock's usual mannerism. “Do tell, Mr. Spock.”

“T'hy'la.” Spock almost whispered the word. “The Vulcan language does not have a word for casual friendships of the kind humans are so fond of engaging in. The closest equivalent word is t'hy'la.”

“What does it mean?” Kirk kept himself still. Waiting. He could see the struggle the words cost Spock.

“T'hy'la. Someone who is as close as a brother, but not of one's blood. Another interpretation might be, in human terms, 'kin-by-choice'.” Spock paused. “A male may ask his t'hy'la to stand with him, if he so chooses. Such a choice is honored by tradition, even as one so chosen is considered kin by the males family.”

The pieces fell into place in Kirk's head with an almost audible click. So did the sudden clenching in his gut. From the way McCoy stiffened and paled slightly, the doctor had made the connection as well.

Kirk took another step forward, looking Spock in the eyes. “So...when you asked us to come with you...”

“I offered you both the right to claim kinship within my family.” Spock's face was pale, his eyes haunted.

“And when you defended our presence to T'Pau, when you declared your right to choose us, you were telling her we were your...brothers? Your family?”

“In every way save blood.”

“And T'Pau acknowledged the claim.”

“Yes Captain. If you visit Vulcan again, you would be acknowledged by T'Pau as family.”

Kirk felt almost dizzy with the knowledge. “Then the Challenge...”

The anguish in Spock's eyes flared brighter, then broke over the stone impassiveness of his face in a terrible, awful wave that made Kirk flinch inside. “When the Challenge was finished....I came to my senses to find myself standing over your body, with the weapon of your supposed demise in my hands.”

“Dear God...” McCoy's exhalation was full of sympathetic pain. “You thought you'd killed your brother?”

“Precisely.” Spock's eyes shifted from Kirk's to McCoy's. “You understand, then, why I was willing to surrender to the authorities, despite the fact that incidents due to the Time cannot be punished by law. Not even by the Federation and Star Fleet.”

“But then...” Kirk stopped as Spock's eyes flared in pain that he no longer seemed to be even trying to hide.

“I told T'Pau before I left that I would find neither long life nor prosperity after having killed you. She would not have intervened in my chosen path. Not permitted any other member of my family to intervene. Had I wished to accept the punishment of killing you, murdering you, then I would have indeed faced the full punishment.”

The death penalty was rare, but not an impossible outcome. Confinement to a penal colony or a forced rehabilitation center was more likely, but in some ways a worse fate. To be a Vulcan in such a place, to endure the shame of such imprisonment...and Spock would have died anyway, at the onset of his next fever. Seven years of misery, locked away from everything that mattered to him, shamed as the Vulcan who had murdered his own captain....Kirk felt the cold knot in his stomach contract so tightly he thought he might be ill.

He clung to the truth. “But I didn't die.”

“I am aware. Just as you have made it clear that you have no intention of holding my actions against me. However....if the situation remains as it is for the next seven years....” Spock's face paled to nearly ghost white, lit eerily by the incense pot that glowed behind him. “In seven years...Captain, would you truly consent to kill me, if I asked it of you?”

Kirk flinched. “I...don't know.” And he didn't. He couldn't imagine killing Spock, but then, he'd done other unimaginable things. And he'd seen that Spock was struggling, that Spock was in pain. He didn't know if he could kill Spock to prevent him from suffering. The closest he'd ever come was when the parasites had taken over Deneva.

“But I do know Captain. Logical or not, I know that I cannot risk killing you again. Nor...ask you to do the same. I would not...ask you to endure what I did, on Vulcan, nor face the penalty that would be paid.” Spock's voice was low, and he no longer even seemed to be trying to keep his pain from his voice. “No more could I ask the same of you, Doctor. Thus the reason for my decision, and my actions of late.”

It made sense, in a terrible, logical kind of way. And yet...Kirk swallowed hard. “Spock....” he paused, then made a decision. “Can I use your computer?”

McCoy's eyebrow shot upward. “Jim...what in blue blazes...”

“You'll see.” Spock nodded, and he keyed the computer on. “Ship's log, record of missions since initial shakedown cruise. Visual reference only. Include also incidents which occurred outside of stated mission parameters, under primary mission of encountering new life forms and galactic exploration.” The screen lit up with a long list of log entries. “Display missions in which ship and or crew was referenced to be in danger of destruction, multiple fatalities or both. Include situations where probability of failure and or said imminent destruction rose above 75 percent likelihood, as calculated by scientific computers at time of crisis under normal operational conditions, or due to a decline in ship and crew functionality due to the nature of the crisis.”

The computer whirred, and a secondary list of missions appeared.

Kirk nodded. “Computer, correlate Ship's Log, Captain's Log, Science Officer's Log, Engineering Log, and Medical Log and display any missions within this list where it is specifically mentioned that myself, Doctor McCoy, First Officer Spock, and any combination thereof, were instrumental in changing the outcome to a more acceptable one.”

A third list appeared. Kirk took a blank disk from Spock's stack of them and slipped it into the slot. “Copy third list unto disk, along with relevant records and mark file as...'Unity'.” The computer whirred a moment, then flashed a completion message. Kirk tapped the button to turn the console off, then withdrew the disk.

McCoy raised an eyebrow as he turned. “Gonna tell us what that was all about?”

Kirk stepped forward to face his First Officer. “I can understand your logic, Spock. But I can't agree with it. And this...” He lifted his hand, held the disk out to the startled first officer. “...this should tell you why.”

Spock looked startled. “I...do not understand.”

Kirk smiled, a soft, sad smile, but genuine. “Spock...since this mission started, we've had a number of close calls. A lot of times where we could have lost the crew, or the ship. A lot of times where, logically, we shouldn't have survived. And yet....we're here. We did survive. Because somewhere, at some point, someone, usually one of us, decided that we simply were not going to fail. That we wanted to survive. And we made it happen. Sometimes, it's me. A bluff. Captain's intuition. Sometimes it's McCoy. A medical breakthrough. A serum, or a cure, or even just simple applied science at the right time. And sometimes it's you. Logic. Calculation. That ability of your to simply process the relative facts a little faster than the rest of us. Your skills as a telepath. But most often, Spock, it takes more than one of us.”

Spock remained silent. Kirk pressed on. “My point Spock, is this: That we each rely on the other for survival, to a certain extent. And if you back out now, no matter how justified, how logical, the decision is, it diminishes our chances. And another thing: We've made, together, something of a career out of escaping dangerous, sometimes impossible situations. I can't see that this...condition of yours is any different. There's danger yes, but it's not for years yet. How many times have we scraped out of a situation with only seconds to spare? How can you suggest giving up, without even trying? After everything we've faced together, all the impossible recoveries we've made, do you really think we should just give up now?”

McCoy cut in. “Not to mention, we've got years to think of a solution, or at least a plan. When I think of all the times I've had to whip up a ship savin' cure with 24 hours or less, hell...somethin' like this looks like a walk in the park.” he smirked. “And we might not even have to worry. A lot can happen in seven years. Hell, by then, we'll have finished our 5 year mission out here. If you're still that worried at the end of our tour of duty, why you can go off back to Vulcan and get that trainin' from those groups you were talking about.”

For a long moment, there was silence. Then something in Spock's eyes changed, softened, some invisible wall coming down. His shoulders relaxed for the first time that evening. He turned his face away, but when he spoke, the cold, raw pain in his voice was gone. “You are...both correct.”

Kirk took his arm and Spock turned back to face him. Kirk held up the disk, and Spock took it from him, one eyebrow rising slightly in a familiar response. “I suppose, Captain, that there will be future incidents to record on this file?”

Kirk grinned. “I'd like to say no, but...there will be many, I'm sure.”

“The way this ship's been goin', at least one or two a month.” McCoy made a face, but his eyes were smiling too.

Kirk held Spock's gaze. “You will be there to help us through them, I assume.”

“Indeed. I could hardly do otherwise. It would not be logical to knowingly decrease the survival chances of the ship.” There was a spark of humor in Spock's dark eyes now as well, a softening of the lines around the mouth that was, for him, a smile.

“Exactly.” Kirk smirked. “And since I believe the crew has been most concerned of late about just such an occurrence, I think it would also be logical if you joined myself and Doctor McCoy for dinner in the Mess Hall this evening.”

“Indeed. As it is the function of the command team and medical personnel to monitor and maintain crew morale, it is in fact quite logical.”

“Then let's go. Cause I'm starving.” McCoy gave both of them a disgruntled look.

“Doctor...given the current status of ships provisions, and the fact that we have recently restocked, it is not possible, or at least not reasonable, for any member of the crew to be starving, as you put it. Particularly not the Chief Medical Officer, who is most aware of crew dietary needs and health requirements...”

McCoy scowled. “It was a figure of speech. It means, in plain human English, that I am hungry, Mr. Spock. Extremely hungry.”

“Then you should have said so.”

“You...”

Kirk found himself laughing. “Gentlemen, let's just....continue the conversation over dinner, shall we?”

Spock nodded. “As you wish, Captain. Doctor...” he inclined his head towards the door. “If you would care to proceed.”

Kirk grinned. “We'll go together with you, if you don't mind.”

Spock's eyebrow rose, but he moved toward the door when Kirk stepped back and out of his way. Kirk and McCoy shared a single knowing look before following him.

Neither of them would ever mention this conversation outside of Spock's quarters, not unless Spock himself indicated it was all right. But they would remember, even as Spock would no doubt remember.

It was good to know, the heart that hid behind that calm expression, that shield of logic. It was important to know of the fragile strength that Spock kept so well protected. They'd needed to hear it said, and Spock had needed to say it, so that they could help him.

A heart so strong should not be hidden. But it did need to be protected, from blows like the one that had struck two weeks ago. And three protectors were always better than one.

**Author's Note:**

> A little bit of bonding, to smooth over the rough edges we all know were left by the events on Vulcan.


End file.
